


Cozy

by elistarr87



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual Possession, F/F, Femslash Yuletide 2013, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:31:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistarr87/pseuds/elistarr87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abaddon’s voice echoes in her bones. Abaddon is everywhere Naomi is- everything Naomi is- and it feels good. It feels right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cozy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Femslash Yuletide 2013 prompt "Cozy"
> 
> Set directly after 8x23
> 
> My SPN OTP + body sharing/consensual possession. Happy Holidays!

“Please.”

A whisper in the air, the last of the first fallen asking for help. Naomi has never heard Abaddon use that word so sincerely. Or so desperately.

Naomi has problems of her own at the moment. That insipid little weasel Metatron has just flung the heavenly Host into the void and locked the door behind them. He surprised her, incapacitated her, and then she was here in the dirt and the cold. Fallen.

He is beyond her correction Naomi decides as she brushes debris from her blazer. He will be lamenting his own creation by the time Naomi is through with him.

Abaddon has found her here. The demon is vessel-less, the body of Josie Sands destroyed at the hands of Sam Winchester. Abaddon is a dark haze swirling around Naomi’s head. She wants Naomi’s help. She wants to share Naomi’s vessel.

Naomi has had this vessel for a long time. She realizes that she is alone in the body- _her_ body. The sleeping occupant is gone, to the rewards promised when they had agreed to host Naomi.

Naomi finds that she misses their presence. And what had their name been? Should it bother her that she can no longer remember it?

And _she_. It’s such a small word for who Naomi is, it cannot possibly contain the angel Naomi.

But there will be time for this later. Naomi shakes her head as if to chase her thoughts away. Letting Abaddon in would be a sacrilege. Against everything she once stood for.

Of course, she and Abaddon have a history. Perhaps it’s time to change. To adapt if she wants to survive and watch Metatron’s grace burn out before her.

And she can no longer hear the Host.

Naomi realizes that she is lonely. She’s been lonely for eons. She can no longer hide from it, now she's trapped in her own head with nothing but her own thoughts. She wants- _needs_ \- Abaddon inside her.

“Yes.”

Abaddon enters her. A twisting column of smoke that invades her mouth, descends her throat, and fills her up with warmth. A perfect fit.

“Cozy. Thank you, angel.”

Abaddon’s voice echoes in her bones. Abaddon is everywhere Naomi is- _everything_ Naomi is- and it feels good. It feels right.

“We have some work to do, hmm dear?”

“Why, Naomi. You’re playing my song. What did you have in mind?”

“A new order in Heaven and Hell. A bloody vendetta against those who would oppose us.”

“Mmmm,” Abaddon vibrates with pleasure. “I think I’m gonna like it here.”

Naomi dances with Abaddon through her own synaptic clefts, swims through her own blood with the demon by her side. Naomi hopes that Abaddon doesn’t take a new vessel. That she’ll stay here with Naomi. Always.

Naomi keeps that thought to herself.


End file.
